


Solitaire

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-02-09
Updated: 2004-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-01 09:55:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/355269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes your mind is the only place left.<br/>Thanks to Unhinged and Theresa for the wonderful beta job.<br/>Reposted to correct the category and a couple of other errors.<br/>Feedback please.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solitaire

## Solitaire

by Chibimom

[]()

* * *

It was the last day of school and he couldn't wait. 

"Hurry Mom," he cried, "I don't want to miss the bus!" 

"Honey, when have you ever missed the bus? Here's your lunch...do you have your book bag?" 

He nodded, pulling at her arm as she tried to kiss him goodby, then he was out the door, running to the bus stop, calling to the other children. 

She smiled and picked up the phone. Moments later, "Lionel? He's off to school, I can't believe he's finishing the 4th grade, it just seems like yesterday," her mind drifted back in time to when he was born. He was so beautiful! 

"Well, I'm glad he enjoys school so much, but the best part of a boy's year is here... SUMMER!" He smiled. "I'm sure he'll be tired tonight. Maybe we can have a nice quiet evening to ourselves, ya think?" 

Lillian smiled, "We'll see, it sounds so nice. Shall I get out the satin sheets?" imagining Lionel's sparkling brown eyes. 

Lionel laughed, knowing they had no satin sheets. "Nice thought, honey, but I think just you will be fine." 

They ended their conversation as Lillian watched the boy get on the bus. "Have a great day, Alex," she whispered to herself, "I love you." 

* * *

Summer came. 

Alex's best friend was a boy named Joey. Joey was plump with flaming red hair that stood up in front with an amazing cowlick. His freckles were so dense, you could hardly see pink beneath them. He was on his hands and knees peering into the hollowed-out log. 

"Alex," he whispered carefully crawling towards the log. "I think the dragon, Firemouth, is in there." He unsheathed his plastic G.I. Joe knife and proceeded with caution. 

Alex stood up, holding his silvery cardboard sword high in the air. Both were wearing paper masks, pretending to be medieval knights. 

"I'm ready!" 

They heard a stirring coming from the log. Joey winced, but stood his ground bravely. Suddenly, something roared . . . snarling as it escaped from its hiding place. Alex chased after it with his sword slashing, running out of steam before coming near the `dragon'. Joey huffed and puffed, catching up with Alex. 

"Firemouth got away," Alex sighed. They took off their paper masks. 

"You know," Joey said, " Old Mrs. Kent would call our moms if she knew we were chasing her cat." 

Alex kicked at the ground with his tennis shoe, "Yeah, but it's not as if we ever hurt him." 

Alex decided it would be best to go after Firemouth another day. Joey agreed and solemnly took Alex's arm in the `knights farewell embrace.' 

"Gotta go," his Mickey Mouse watch showed 5 o'clock. `'It's almost dinner time." With that, Joey headed over across the two vacant lots that separated their homes. 

The front door flew open, "Mom! What's for dinner?" Alex called. 

His senses told him it was fried chicken, one of his favorites. Carrying his sword into the kitchen, he pulled a box of aluminum foil out of a drawer and began to repair a tear on its blade. He looked at his mother who was pulling a pan of biscuits out of the oven. 

"Can I be a knight someday?" 

"Sure, sweetie." She bent down and kissed his sweat-soaked hair. "Go wash up." 

As he ran off, Lillian turned to Lionel who was setting the table, " Will you make sure he washes under his fingernails as well as his face? He looked pretty dirty." 

"Sure." Lionel kissed her cheek and followed the boy upstairs. 

* * *

Who invented younger sisters?!!! Joey was unhappy with his Mother's request to take his sister with him while he played outside. "Aww Mom, do I have to?" The response was a stern look which Joey knew meant no arguments. He gathered up his dragon slaying armaments and headed out the door with his little sister in tow. 

Ten year old boys shouldn't have to look after their 6 year old sisters; he sped up, hoping to lose her in the short distances over to Alex's house. No such luck. 

"Hi Joey!" Alex called out from the tree house he and his Dad had built two years earlier. They built it to look like a castle with a tower and spires. Since their home was fairly new, there were no large trees to build it in. Their castle was free standing, about eight feet high, and had been painted gray to look like stone. Alex was very proud of it. 

"I had to bring my sister," Joey bemoaned, running ahead of her. The six year old caught up, her short hair damp and her mouth set in a pout. 

"Hi, Bethie" Alex waved. He didn't mind the younger girl quite as much as Joey did. She could get in the way, but sometimes they needed a damsel to rescue when dragons were scarce. 

"Hi, Alex!" Beth and Joey climbed the ladder up into the castle. She unfolded her Burger King crown and pulled it securely on her head, knowing she always played the princess. 

They played, saving the princess from dragons, evil warlords, and kings who wanted to tear her away from her make believe family and carry her off to distant lands. Her rescuers always came through, though, saving the day. Alex loved this game. His father had read him many stories about knights, King Arthur and his Round Table when he was too young to read them himself. Oh, how he dreamed to be a knight, like Lancelot. 

* * *

The afternoon grew still and hot; the games came to an end. The children climbed down from the castle, tired from their activities. 

"Mickey Mouse says it's 4 o'clock" Joey looked up from his watch. "We need to go home." 

With, the knight handshake completing the day, Joey and Beth headed home. 

Alex waved, "Bye Joey, Bye Beth." 

"Bye Alex," both said in unison. Joey held Beth's hand as they walked home. 

Alex climbed back up into the castle to think. He sat in the corner, wrapping his arms around his knees, the summer heat lulling him to far away places. His was a medieval castle, no soft pillows or chairs and no blankets, only a built-in bench on two sides of the room on which to sit. The only consideration to the civilized world was a single lightbulb above, glowing a pale yellow. His thoughts drifted away to a time long ago when knights in shining armor, carrying long lances and crossbows rode off to faraway lands. Their righteous duty to battle the evil wizards, dragons and bad kings who lived in the dark, dank black castles. The castles from where only the most brave and capable knights returned alive; the knights who would lay down their lives in honor of their king and kingdom. 

Alex's eyes opened, and he shivered slightly. When did he eat lunch? His stomach growled insistently; he couldn't remember when he was this hungry. At that moment, his mother called for him and he climbed down from the castle and raced into the house. 

* * *

"Strike 2!" The empire bellowed, making grave gestures with his arm. The bleachers were noisy with excited parents and friends, waving their signs and pennants, and stomping their feet for the home team. 

Sweat collecting on his upper lip, Alex looked behind the backstop at his father. 

"Watch the ball, Alex, you can do it. Just watch the ball and remove everything else from your mind. Think about the ball." 

Alex licked the sweat off his lip and returned his gaze to the pitcher. He let his nervousness drift away as he watched the pitcher's glove. Watch the ball, watch the ball. Finally, the wind up and the pitch. Almost in slow motion, Alex watched as the ball came towards him. His arms began their swing and . . . WLACKK! He dropped the bat and his mouth gaped. 

"RUN!!" yelled Lionel, the crowd standing and screaming, "Go, Go! Run!" 

Alex ran like he had never run before. Turning first base he flew towards second, rounding it he continued on, mindless of the coach yelling at him to stop. Suddenly the third baseman stopped him with a gloved hand in the stomach. He doubled over, falling into the dirt. Shaking his head to clear it, he realized that he was out. The game was over, the opposing team winning by one run. He had failed to tie the score. 

Lionel ran out to the boy who was starting to stand up. "Are you okay, son?" He checked for signs of injury, but found none except a scraped knee. 

With tears rolling down his face, Alex cried, "I lost the game. I coulda tied it but I didn't run fast enough." He looked up at his father for a reproaching look. Finding none, he wiped his face on his jersey sleeve. 

Lionel hugged him as he spoke, "You did your best didn't you?" Alex nodded. "You watched the ball and thought of nothing else, didn't you?" Alex nodded again. "Then you've made me very proud." 

Alex looked up at his father and smiled slightly, but he still felt bad about losing the game. Lillian waited anxiously by the bleachers. She did not want to embarrass Alex by running out into the field with Lionel. Alex was at an age where boys were often embarrassed by their concerned mothers. 

"Are you okay," she looked at Alex and Lionel. Both responded, "Yes." She gave Alex a quick hug and he ran ahead to the car. 

Alex was standing by the car when his coach stormed over, face red, yelling at the top of his lungs. Alex tried to step back when the coach shook his finger in his face but couldn't because he was already against the side of the car.. 

"Why didn't ya stop like I screamed. Why didn't ya listen?!" The coach's face was just inches from Alex's. 

Lionel put himself between Alex and the coach. Alex sighed and quickly got in the car. 

"Coach Wells, Alex did his best today and that's all you can ask of him, right?" Lionel stared icily into the older man's eyes. "The team did well against the league champions, didn't they?" 

"Sure, of course they did." The coach was obviously uncomfortable. "Next time Alex better listen to the base coach." He huffed and walked away to supervise the loading of the equipment. 

"Alex," Lionel looked straight into Alex's gray-blue eyes. "Never, let anyone question your worthiness. Listen to your heart and be strong. There are lots of people in this world who will try to dismiss your abilities, or your true intentions but remember who you are. You are Alex Luthor, a fine son who will grow into a strong man, with a true and loving heart." 

* * *

It's not fair, raining on a Saturday afternoon. Alex glumly played with his Game Boy. He liked killing the bad guys in this game, but he was growing tired of it. There wasn't any strategy involved. He would much rather play outside; he loved the fresh air and the freedom. Alex sighed again, staring at the floor. Lionel looked down at the boy from his chair, reached into the coffee table drawer and pulled out a deck of cards. 

"Come here Alex." Alex got up and moved over to his father's chair and sat on the floor. "I'm going to show you how to play Solitaire." 

Lionel shuffled the cards and handed the deck to Alex. "This is a game you can play alone. Sometimes you'll play for hours and wonder where the time went." 

Alex doubted it, but humored his dad. "What does Solitaire mean". 

"Singular, one. It means you can play by yourself when you're alone." 

Lionel showed the boy how to line up the rows of cards and place the remainder of the deck on the table, top card showing. He moved the cards, with Alex watching, always placing the next lower card just atop the higher card. Sometimes they could move half or whole rows. This time they reached a stalemate, using all the remaining deck without finishing the rows. 

Pulling out another deck of cards, Lionel helped Alex shuffle both decks. "Strategy can be used to win the game." 

They continued playing, sometimes not moving cards until they had a complete row. Sometimes they missed a card they needed, letting it pass. 

"Ah, you have to keep on your toes, focus. That card is unplayable now and the opportunity is lost to us." 

Alex was enthralled. He reveled in the strategy, adding a third deck as he became more proficient. He looked up at the clock on the wall. The afternoon did pass quickly. He was starving, again. What did he have for lunch? Lunch was a long time ago. Lillian called them to dinner. Roast beef, mashed potatoes and gravy. Brussel sprouts, but Alex thought he could get by without eating those nasty things. 

"Alex, your face and hands are dirty, go up and wash them," Lillian chided lightly. 

Alex looked at his hands, and he went upstairs to the bathroom. He looked at himself in the full length mirror on the bathroom door. How did he get so dirty, the nails embedded with earth, his face smudged? He hadn't been outside today. He washed his face and scrubbed his nails with a small brush, rinsed and went back downstairs to dinner. The Brussel sprouts were on his plate when he returned and he ate everything without complaining. 

* * *

His mother tucked him in bed and kissed him. (Alex, of course, felt he was much too mature to be tucked in, but his mother insisted). He quickly drifted off to sleep. 

Alex woke and through his window he saw the light on out in his castle. He was so sleepy... he rubbed his eyes and looked again. The light still shown. He was sure he had turned it off when he came inside last night. His stomach growled. He was so hungry and thirsty. He looked on his night stand for his water glass, but it was empty. It's never empty, Alex thought. Maybe he had awakened earlier and drank all of it. He didn't remember. 

He got out of bed and quietly passed his parents room and went downstairs. He didn't want to wake them. Padding into the kitchen, he opened the refrigerator door and looked for something to eat. He took a container of rice pudding and ate it quickly. That would tide him over `til breakfast. He unlocked the back door, quickly ran outside and climbed up into his castle. One quick yank on the string and the light bulb went out. Alex ran back inside, locked the door and headed upstairs. Wait, he almost forgot. The water glass was waiting on the counter. He filled it and headed back upstairs. Setting the glass on the night stand, Alex returned to bed and quickly fell back asleep. He was so tired. 

* * *

Alex slept late the next morning. Lillian asked Lionel to wake Alex for breakfast. Lionel called to the boy from the doorway to his room. Alex didn't stir. He walked over to the bed and pulled back the covers. Alex was soaking wet; a strong smell of urine emanating from the sheets. Shaking him lightly, Lionel watched as Alex opened his eyes. Alex felt and smelled the wet sheets. He was mortified as his father lifted him up out of the bed. Looking up at his father's face, Alex saw a slight glint of disappointment in the brown eyes. Then Lionel held the boy close, stroking his red hair. 

"It's okay, Alex. You must have had too much water to drink last night. This can happen sometimes." 

He helped Alex remove his pajamas. On his way to the bathroom, Alex saw the empty glass on the night stand. He couldn't remember drinking any of it. He was ashamed. Only babies wet the bed. He decided that he would not keep water on his night stand any more. 

Lionel turned on the shower and took the wet bedding downstairs. Alex quickly washed. Dressing, he looked outside. The light was on again in the castle. He would have to ask his father to check it out. He went downstairs for breakfast, head lowered, seating himself at the table. Lillian put a plate of pancakes in front of him. The aroma tingled his senses. He ate hungrily. 

Lillian noticed that his face was smudged and his hands were filthy. Hadn't he just showered? She didn't have the heart to send him back upstairs to wash again. 

Nothing more was said of the bed wetting incident. The sheets were washed and replaced. Lillian was sure it was just an isolated accident, but would watch her son for any signs of something amiss. 

Lionel checked the castle light at Alex's insistence. "It looks fine, son." The light was off now and they climbed down from the castle. 

* * *

Joey had the flu. "Shit" Alex mumbled to himself as he lay inside the castle alone. It was his favorite new word and he used it whenever he could, but not around his parents. Dad had actually smacked him the first time Alex said it in his presence. He couldn't ever remember being smacked before. His feelings were hurt, but his father's eyes blazed and Alex knew he would have to watch his language around his parents. 

Alex thought about retrieving the playing cards but felt tired, his limbs feeling light. He had read many books from the library on Solitaire. He could actually play the game in his head. He imagined lining the cards up and watched them slide into place as he willed it. Alex liked playing in his head, as the outcome was a win more often than not. Winning made him feel in control, and that was such a wonderful feeling. 

A cold shiver overcame him suddenly and he was hungry again. He must be going through one of those growth spurts his mother kept talking about. But he didn't feel any bigger. Actually, he didn't feel well today, maybe he was getting Joey's flu. He stood up to climb down, but he became light headed and quickly sat back down on the bench. 

"MOM!" He yelled, waiting a few seconds. Of course she couldn't hear him. The house was shut up for the air conditioner and she wouldn't be able to hear him. Nauseous waves hit him and he vomited. He quickly went into dry heaves when no more liquid came up. He looked around for his Coke, but it wasn't there. 

"The flu really makes you feel shitty!" Alex crawled to the ladder and carefully climbed down. 

Alex stayed on his feet and staggered into the house. He lay down on the sofa, waiting for his head to clear, but it didn't. Mom didn't come. She must have gone out without taking him along. She never did that. Maybe there had been an emergency. Alex felt he should do something, but he didn't know what. He tried to call her cell phone but couldn't remember the number so he tried to read the speed dial numbers but his vision was hazy. Rolling off the couch, he got up and stumbled to the kitchen. There was more pudding in the fridge and he quickly devoured it.. He was starving. 

No one showed up by 5 o'clock so Alex called Joey's house. 

"Mrs. Holmes? My Mom and Dad aren't here and I don't know where they are. You think so? Okay. I'll wait a while longer." 

They didn't come by 8 o'clock and Alex was terrified. His body ached and he couldn't reach the phone. He drifted off to sleep again. 

* * *

Alex woke to a far off voice that grew louder second by second. His head throbbed painfully as he opened his eyes. His father's strong hands were holding him close, as he murmured softly in Alex's ear. 

"I'm so sorry I wasn't here. I thought the sitter was going to stay with you. I'm furious that she left you alone." Lionel stroked the boy's hair lovingly. 

Alex was puzzled. He knew this wasn't right; he didn't have a sitter. Where was Mom? His vision was cloudy, but those niggling questions quickly passed from his mind. 

"Dad, I'm starving." 

Lionel held him tight as he carried him into the kitchen. Holding Alex's hands under the running water, Lionel lightly scrubbed the grime from under his fingernails and wiped his face. 

"How does this boy get so dirty?" Lionel wondered. 

Food quelled Alex's nauseous feelings and his father put him to bed after giving him a dose of Tylenol for his slight fever. 

"Are you sure you feel ok? I am so sorry about what happened. I love you and never want you to be alone. You know that don't you?" Lionel pulled the covers up under Alex's chin and kissed him lightly on the cheek. 

"Daaaddd," Alex protested. "I'm not a baby." 

"I know you aren't, but dads loves their sons forever, no matter how old they get." Lionel left Alex, noticing the boy's hands as he struggled out of the tightly tucked blanket. How does he get so dirty? 

* * *

This dragon had not been slain. The Knight lay alone in the wizard's dungeon, his armor gone, his feet bare. He sat up, a small sky light way above his cell allowed a faint glow. He looked around at his surroundings. The cell was small with a loosely-packed dirt floor. Between the gray stone walls, tiny rivulets of foul smelling liquid seeped. A heap of stale hay was pushed into one of the corners of the dank cell. The captured Knight didn't know how long he had been there, but he was very hungry and thirsty. 

People the Knight thought he knew, entered the dungeon cell and spoke angrily to him, but he couldn't understand their words or make out their faces. Their mouths were sewn shut with black thread, their eyes red. One floated directly in front of the Knight and in the dim light his eyes were almost black and blazed as if on fire. The Knight was mesmerized, he couldn't look away from the fiery eyes. The apparition took a length of leather from beneath his robes and began striking the Knight across his back, never saying a word. The Knight fell into unconsciousness. 

* * *

Alex woke up softly sobbing and soaking wet. His heart pounding, he smelled of urine and sweat; then realized that he had wet the bed again. He tore off his bedding, feeling quite ashamed, and carried it down to the laundry room. Then he stripped off his pajamas and put them with the soiled linen. He would have washed them himself, but he didn't know how. He couldn't remember ever seeing his mother do the laundry. Oh well. 

Alex went back upstairs and looked out the window at his castle. The light was on. How can it be on? He always turned it off when he was finished playing. He sat in the corner of his room, naked, until morning. 

* * *

Lionel took Alex to the pediatrician's office for a check up and to discuss the bed wetting incidents. They were occurring more frequently during the past few weeks. Alex's blood was drawn, he had to pee in a cup, and endure cotton swabs poking the back of his throat. 

The doctor ushered Lionel into his office, leaving Alex in the waiting room to look through a book. 

"I can't find anything physically wrong. Alex is a healthy boy." Dr. Makita told Lionel. "He's a bit thin, but he'll fill out as he gets older. I wouldn't worry about him. I'm sure this is just a phase, but if you'd like, I can suggest a child psychologist. Bed wetting in children of Alex's age is usually caused by psychological problems. Once the problems are resolved, the bed wetting should cease." 

Dr. Makita wrote the name down on a pad and tore the sheet off. Lionel thanked him and left the office. Alex put the book down when he saw his father. He felt a little uneasy. 

"You are just fine Alex," Lionel smiled, but there was a slight edge to his voice. "The doctor said the bed wetting will probably go away on its own." He didn't want to go into the alternative treatment at this time. 

As they walked to the car, Alex asked, "Can we stop at McDonald's for lunch?" He was starving, and didn't want to wait until he got home. His father's cooking wasn't very good anyway. He was tired of Tuna Helper and Hamburger Helper. 

"You need better nutrition. Dr. Makita said you're a little thin. I'll fix something better when we get home." Lionel started the car and headed towards home. 

Alex frowned and hoped it wasn't Helpers again. 

* * *

The Knight awakened to the horrifying terror of complete silence. Only his thoughts again to keep him company. Was it day or night? He couldn't tell. His torn clothes hung on his thin frame, his skin caked with dirt. His back burned. Red welts raised through the dirt on his skin, where he had been beaten. His stomach was empty, no longer growling, past feeling hungry; he didn't feel much of anything anymore. The stench of urine and feces filled the air as he rolled over in the musty hay. 

His thoughts were not good company now. He didn't have much imagination left. The sewn mouth people didn't come anymore; nor the wizard, nor the dragon. He began to dream again of a dragon named Firemouth. That was the monster he had been sent to eliminate and he had failed. Firemouth curled his tail and laughed at him. It seemed so natural, as dreams do. Slowly the image of Firemouth faded also. 

The Knight tried to play solitaire. At first he drew the cards in the dirt, but then became too tired to draw; and relinquished the cards to his mind. It was difficult, at times, to see the game due to his weakened state, but there was little else to hold on to. Was he going insane? 

A small bowl of something resembling liquid cream of rice and a small cup of water appeared in the cell. The Knight crawled over to it and noisily lapped it up with his mouth and fingers. He carefully carried the water back to the hay pile. The tiny skylight above gave off a faint yellow glow. 

The Knight always tried to make the water last, but it didn't. He looked up at the light and began to sob. The deep sobbing brought on vomiting and he lost his supper. Desperately, he ate the vomit off the dirt, knowing nothing more would come for a long time. He didn't even have the strength to crawl back to the hay, falling asleep where he lay. 

* * *

"DAD NO!!!" Alex sat up in bed. He was wet again. 

Lionel ran into the boy's bedroom. His eyes grew angry as he saw and smelled the urine soaked sheets. Alex, crying, ran to his father trying to embrace him. Lionel grabbed Alex's arms and held him at a distance. Alex could see the large hand coming but he could not move. The slap knocked him to the floor. His father picked him up again. This time the backhanded slap sent Alex across the room, blood trickling from his mouth. 

"Take the sheets downstairs and get cleaned up. Be sure to scrub your filthy face and hands." Lionel turned and went downstairs. 

Tears were streaming down his face as Alex carried the sheets downstairs. He put them in the laundry room then looked at his arms. There was something under the dirt, something he hadn't noticed before. He went to the sink and turned on the water. Pale white scars glistened as the dirt rinsed away. He dried his hands on a kitchen towel. He had never seen these scars before. When did he get them? Where did they come from? 

* * *

"DAMN, SHIT, HELL!!! The Knight became very angry. What did the King want with him? Was he left to die? For the first time, the Knight's dream floated his body through the walls to other parts of the castle. He saw the many rooms, mostly dark and out of focus. The walls shifted and changed colors as he went by. There were a few people in the castle but he didn't see the Wizard or the King. He tried to shout at the people but became frustrated when no one looked up at him. No one could see or hear him, his vision faded into shadows. 

Suddenly he was in a dark and dank room, one with steaming beakers, tubes with different colored liquids, and jars containing strange animal parts. He looked away. A man in long white robes was writing something on parchment paper with a feather. He floated over to the paper and saw strange letters he couldn't read. The robed man looked around and up, staring him in the eyes. This person could obviously see him. 

"I can't help you. The King forbids it, and no one crosses the King." He went back to his writing. 

The Knight's gaze dropped as did his hopes. He drifted down to look the Wizard in the face. The face grew clearer... _no_! 

* * *

Sad and hungry, Alex sat down at the kitchen table. He felt... funny, like he should be somewhere else. A tear trickled down his cheek. 

" _Alex_ ," a soft voice called to him. He spun around expecting his father, but there was no one there. " _Alex, where are you, why are you crying_?" 

"My dad hit me. He never used to hit me" Alex trembled, remembering, wiping a dribble of blood from his mouth. 

" _Where's your mother_? *When I first came to visit, I remember you telling me about your mother*. _How much she loved you_." The voice was faint, very faint. 

"Mother?" He couldn't remember Mother. Alex sat there, transfixed. His eyes stared far away, searching his past for a mother. "No, it's been just me and Dad for a long time." 

Who was talking to him? He felt faint... starving. He tried to get up from the kitchen chair but couldn't. 

" _Have you played with Joey lately_?" 

He couldn't remember Joey either. 

"Are you trying to trick me?" Alex asked the voice. He could almost feel the voice wrap around him like a gentle summer breeze. 

" _No... I'm sorry Alex, I won't come again_. _I think I'm dying_." 

* * *

The Knight's dream left him. He cried out for Alex, but Alex wasn't there. He couldn't even play solitaire in his head, anymore. The castle must be abandoned now and he had been left to die. He brought his legs up into the fetal position, thumb in his mouth, muttering incoherently. 

"He's hallucinating again." Dr. Stevens gaze moved from the security monitor to stare at Lionel... his voice angry. "How much more do you expect him to endure? It's already been 126 days. He is too weak to stand and the hallucinations are constant now. Solitary confinement and starvation..." 

"I know what they do," Lionel replied, angrily. He was amazed that Dr. Stevens would speak to him like that. 

"I want him pliant for `reconditioning'; he was getting out of control, becoming disobedient. 

He thought I didn't know when he skipped school or indulged himself in drugs and girls... and boys. He was telling lies and embarrassing me. Lex was always under surveillance, at home, the Luthorcorp offices, and school. He was caught sucking off one of the teachers. Only a sizeable monetary donation kept him in that school. Lex must be taught strict obedience and loyalty to _me_." Lionel shot Stevens a fiery look. He left little doubt that Stevens should agree. 

Stevens shuddered and immediately dropped his eyes. 

"He should be ready; there can't be much of himself left. He's only 16. The Army doesn't subject grown men to this kind of..." 

Lionel moved to within an inch of Dr. Stevens. "It is me he belongs to, not the Army. My needs are much greater. I demand complete obedience, loyalty and service nothing less. I don't care if he is 6 or 16 or 26. He's already brilliant; his schooling has seen to that. But, without complete control over him, he is useless to me." Knowing he had made himself quite clear to the doctor, Lionel smirked and left Stevens to his monitors. 

* * *

At 140 days the door opened. Strong lights were brought in. The Knight brought his arm up to cover his eyes. Strong, rough hands picked him up and dragged him through the castle to the Wizard's bright room and lay him on a table. He still couldn't open his eyes without pain. 

"Lex"... a soft voice spoke to him. But he wasn't Lex, he was the Knight. And Alex was the beautiful boy he visited, with the loving family and wonderful childhood. Had it been his own family? A loving Mom and Dad. A real childhood with friends. Could it be real? Slowly, painfully... remembering... Lex's own life deteriorated around him. 

Dr. Stevens began to wipe his face. The ground in dirt came off slowly and he didn't want to chafe the boy's tender skin underneath. 

"Mom, Dad?" Lex croaked, his throat too dry to speak. The visions of his fairy tale life were fading quickly. 

At that moment Lionel walked in. He roughly yanked Lex's arm away from his face pulling his chin up. 

"You have only me, you pathetic boy." Those black eyes bore down into Lex's, ripping his soul apart. The boy's gaze lowered. "No one cares about you, except me. I'm the only person you have." 

"NO!! My real Mom and Dad love me!" Lex tried to sit up but Lionel knocked him back. It didn't take much of a blow, the boy was so weak. He began to cry, overcome with horrible grief and loneliness; his thumb moved towards his mouth. 

Lionel struck him hard across his face, and Lex's hand automatically dropped to his side. 

"Yes!" Lionel bore down on him again. "I am your Mother, your Father, and your _owner_. There is only me. You will obey _me_." 

Lionel looked at Stevens. "After he is cleaned and fed, I want that tutor I hired to begin meeting with Lex at 11 am tomorrow." 

"But, he's too weak. He can barely stand and he barely knows who and where he is. Recuperation will take time. Food will have to be increased gradually or he will become violently ill." Dr. Stevens pleaded with Lionel. 

Lionel was seething, "I want him back at his studies. His healing abilities will speed recuperation." 

He looked at the thin, fragile boy on the table. His long lashes fluttered atop hollow gray eyes. 

"Please, sir, right now he can't even control his bowels," Stevens pleaded. 

"Mommy," Lex mumbled, his thumb returning to his mouth. 

Lionel raised his hand to strike, then lowered it. His words softened. 

"Take care of him, Dr. Stevens. Lex is very important to me." He bent his head and gently caressed his dazed son on the forehead. "Have him physically recovered in a week. We can begin his mental reconditioning in a few days and his schooling in two weeks." 

Stevens nodded, thankfully, returning his attention to the filthy body before him. Maybe there was some humanity in Mr. Luthor after all. Stevens shook off the feeling, knowing in his gut that Lionel had no humanity. He only wanted his `possession' returned, ready to obey. 

* * *

Lex slipped into his sweet dream. He saw the boy at the edge of the shadows. In his heart, Lex knew the fairy tale life hadn't been his life. In the end, his mind could not accept a normal childhood with love and kindness. It had not been so after his mother died. 

The young Alex waved from the edge of the dream and disappeared into the shadows forever. 

**END**


End file.
